


Sad Beautiful Tragic

by sanctuarizedtruth



Category: Westlife
Genre: Bars and Pubs, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Break Up, M/M, Post-Break Up, Song: Sad Beautiful Tragic (Taylor Swift), Songwriting, Trains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:28:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23358535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanctuarizedtruth/pseuds/sanctuarizedtruth
Summary: When they broke up, Mark experienced different stages of it and let it all out through his song.
Relationships: Kian Egan/Mark Feehily
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Sad Beautiful Tragic

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old fiction version I wrote inspired by the song of Taylor Swift. I just found them lying in my notes and I’m bored, changed a bit detail and all that. And the thought of Mark playing guitar, uhh.
> 
> I know it's short, but I hope this is going to work out. Keep safe, people!

“I, uhm… Do you mind if I perform an original song?” Mark asked the people in the bar, they agreed. Some of them clapped at him and stared like they were Simon Cowell who could kick him out the minute he played his shite song.

Mark had been doing this for months, playing songs for people. He didn’t even know where he got the confidence to stand up on the stage, let alone sing. Maybe it was his love for music, how he thought he was singing alone and when he opened his eyes, he heard the claps, shouts, whispers and the nods as a sign of agreement of people.

Or maybe he was doing this because he had bills and rent to pay. He was pretty sure that was one of the reasons.

“Okay.” He steadied his breathing. This was his first time sharing his own piece. “Okay, so this is called ‘Sad Beautiful Tragic’, and I hope you’re all going to like it.”

He picked the guitar and started strumming, slow.

*

“Good bye.”

Mark smiled at Kian, of course, a fake smile. The door slowly closed and the train started to run off its track. Watched Kian fade away, also watched the train until it was out of his sight. He knew he couldn’t chase him, not when there were guards and him being a shite runner. Somehow, he hoped Kian would dig in his pocket, where his long, hand-written note was put moments earlier.

He couldn’t control it anymore. A storm came from inside of him and he cried leaving the station. Went in his car and cried a lot more, he didn’t know how long he was crying there, or how many tears had fallen. He brushed up his hair. His gaze accidentally fell in his bag, thinking suddenly. He picked up his notebook and started writing a poem, while Kian was on the train.

He should’ve known, shouldn’t have said that. He was ruined, visibly invisible. Thinking in hindsight, staring at the station.

Waiting for Kian to come back.

*

 _“We had a beautiful magic love there, turned to sad beautiful tragic love affair.”_ He sang.

*

“Uhm, hey.” Kian was outside the door.

“Hi.” Mark shortly replied, suddenly short of breath.

Kian sighed. “Look, Mark. I know it’s not the right time but I really, badly missed you.”

Mark almost wanted to, almost hugged Kian, but he woke up in his bed in his flat in Dublin. He wished he was there in Sligo, in Kian’s bed instead and feeling a running, soft touch in his belly.

It had been weeks since Kian went back home. He felt like Kian was hiding from him. Like all the demons in his sleep looked like Mark.

*

_“’Cause we had a beautiful magic love there, turned to sad beautiful tragic love affair”_

*

He was too far away from Kian, too far away from his life. He wanted to follow him there and somehow wished he could have a chance to talk to him, so he did. Booked a train ticket and waited patiently right by the tracks, never wanting to commemorate what happened in that same position months ago.

When he arrived, he wanted to call him, telling Kian he’s home, but no, he couldn’t. Instead of going to his parent’s house, he went straight to Kian. It made him feel like he was on a long road, just thinking about what to say, what to do and just maybe seeing Kian for the last time.

Just Kian.

*

 _“Distance, timing, breakdown, fighting_  
 _Silence, train runs off its tracks.”_ He felt tears running down his cheeks.

 _“Kiss me, try’na fix it_  
 _Would you just try to listen?”_ He cried out.

*

He never expected it to be like that, he guessed. How Kian answered the door with the look in his eyes.

“What do you want?” Kian said simply yet cold, crossing his arms.

“I wanna talk about u-“

“There’s nothing to talk about anymore, Mark. We dropped it all out on the table.” Kian interrupted, scratching the side of his eyebrow.

“Please, Kian.” He cupped Kian’s face. Oh God, he missed that so much. “Please, I’ll make it up to you. I, I just missed you.” He tried to lean closer to Kian. And closer. And closer. “I love you.” He whispered, never realizing his lips touch with Kian’s.

It felt long, like he could see the kaleidoscope of memories in just one blink.

From the shower incident back in high school, to making out in the bath.  
From the confessions, to watching the sun set.  
From the day he met Kian, to the train.

But he knew it was just a short time, when Kian slightly pushed his shoulders and stared at him for what felt like a long time.

“No.” he breathed slowly.

*

_“Hang up, give up_   
_For the life of us I can’t take back”_

*

“No.” He said again, already reaching for the door. “Leave.” Kian opened the door and entered.

“This is my last good bye.”

The door closed.

*

_“Beautiful tragic, beautiful tragic, beautiful.”_

*

He walked home alone. Knew it was a long walk, but it made him feel numb, he knew there was nothing he could do. When he arrived at his house, he felt the warmth of his mam and dad’s embrace.

They talked about it over dinner, they said he could find a good fella someday, because he’s such a handsome, good lad.

The next morning, he scooped up his bags and left the house quietly and went back to the city.

*

 _“What a sad, beautiful tragic love affair.”_ He wiped his eyes and bowed and people in the bar clapped and he could see some people wiping their teary eye.

He went down from the stage to the bar, ordered a beer and drank one mouthful. That seemed to calm him.

“That’s quite a good song.” A man on his right side.

“Hmm, thanks.” He looked at the guy and smiled politely.

The man offered his hand, smiling.  
“Nicky.”

**Author's Note:**

> I realized I didn't give ausfil a credit, I'm so awful. Anyway, I'd like to thank ausfil for having a time to check this story before it goes out in the world.
> 
> Love y'all, keep safe!


End file.
